Stuck in Fourth Gear
by TheGrimKeeper
Summary: "Over the years, the death of his mother had brought any ego he'd had way down and haunted him. His father had assured him early on that it wasn't his fault, but his sister never stopped blaming him, and often reminded him of it. Drip... Drip..." Clyde oneshot for my own 'a one-shot per character' challenge. Warning for self-harm.


Yay! I managed to finish another one-shot! :D I'd been obsessing a bit over Clyde when I first started writing this. I absolutely love him but feel terrible for him, especially after TSOT. Anyway, I've started a challenge for myself - a oneshot per character - in hopes of keeping me in the rhythm of writing. That way hopefully I can get some of my original work done and published so I can make a living x.x

Anyway, if things go as planned, there's a good chance that Kyle or Craig will be coming up next, but god knows how long that'll take me. Either way, I hope you enjoy the show :3 All comments so long as it's constructive criticism welcome!

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Stuck in Fourth Gear

_Drip... Drip... Drip..._

Clyde stood in the middle of his bedroom making slow, long strokes of one arm against the other. The cold metal easily sliced through his skin, leaking bright red blood to run down to the underside of his forearm and fall to the floor. His eyes were full of tears, overflowing even, the area around them reddened. Over the years, the death of his mother had brought any ego he'd had way down and haunted him. His father had assured him early on that it wasn't his fault, but his sister never stopped blaming him, and often reminded him of it. _Drip... Drip..._

Grades at school quickly dropped, and they stayed that way even up to today. He was able to easily hide that fact from his friends, but his old masquerade was faltering. As much as he'd been able to pull off his happy-go-lucky charade, he was still asked the odd question on if he was OK. But with graduation fast approaching, Clyde's depression had hit an all-time low. _Drip..._

He tried hard to keep people from seeing what he did to himself, but inside he was screaming for help. All these years and no one had heard him, no one had answered. Clyde was growing tired, feeling the weight of his mother's grave pull him down and down and down. _Drip... Drip... Drip..._

Clyde let out a sniffle as he made another cut, a rather deep one, but as it was, he only cut on the outer side. He wasn't sure why he never did it inside, but always told himself he was just too chicken to really do it. He hissed at the sting, but didn't stop until he was satisfied by it's length. Then he moved to cut again.

But he was stopped by the sound of a car door slamming. He looked out the window. _drip.._ Craig's car sat lonely in Clyde's driveway. The brunette boy panicked, looking down at himself and the knife in his hand. He hurried over to his desk and tossed the blade in the top drawer, slamming it shut. He scrambled around in search for his dark jacket, throwing it on. A good amount of blood ran down over his hand and again dripped, forcing him to shove it in his pocket. Lastly, he wiped at his eyes, trying to rid himself of the tears, and then turned off the ceiling light, letting what light streamed through the window to illuminate the room in an attempt to hide his face. He heard heavy footfalls on the stairs outside his room, a tell-tale sign of Craig's approach as he'd made a habit of stomping whenever ascending a flight of steps.

Clyde looked around himself, desperately searching for something natural-looking to be doing when his friend would open the door, but he found nothing, only standing there, overdrive circuits shorting out. The door opened and in stepped the tall raven-haired boy.

"H-hey, Craig. What're you doing here?" Clyde asked, unmoving.

"Token suggested a gaming night at his place." Craig stated in his slightly nasally voice. "Tweek's already there, so I'm here to pick you up."

"I'm not sure I can go. Why didn't you call first?"

"You didn't answer your phone." Craig said as he approached his friend. "Besides, it's not really a request. I was told to bring you whether you were up to it or not." With that, Craig tugged on Clyde's sleeve, pulling him out the door, down the steps and out to the car. Clyde, unwilling to fight, got in.

"Dude, something wrong?" Craig asked as they drove toward Token's house.

"N-no, why?" Clyde glanced at the raven, who was concentrating on the road. Craig's eyes shifted to the side towards Clyde, but didn't meet his gaze.

"Your eyes are red."

Clyde's wheels started spinning on the single thought; '_What do I tell him?_' If he didn't blurt something out and took too long, Craig would know something was up.

"I uh was playing with the cat like... half an hour ago..." Clyde said, looking away out his window, "Allergies, man."

The rest of the ride to Token's was awfully quiet, making Clyde increasingly uncomfortable.

Tweek and Token were both found in the living room, sprawled across the couch watching a movie. They both looked up at the same time, although Tweek's head more of snapped in their direction with how fast he'd turned. Upon spotting Craig, Tweek promptly jumped up and tackled the taller boy. They seemed a bit close for friends when observed from outside the group, but most people understood their relationship. Tweek was a tight ball of anxiety and proneness to accidents, and Craig was extremely protective of the blonde. After all, they were best friends.

Clyde couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, and so he turned his sights to the son of the house's owner.

"Hey, mind if I use your bathroom?" He questioned. Token just nodded and turned his attention back to the movie.

Clyde entered deeper into the big house, winding his way through the long-familiar halls to the bathroom. Once inside, he locked the door and removed his jacket. He stared at himself in the mirror.

He didn't look as distressed upstairs, but his arm was an utter bloody mess. Blood had soaked through his jacket to stain a large spot on his t-shirt on the side. Poor Taco Cat was getting close to being stained. His entire arm was caked in blood, a few of the more serious cuts were still bleeding.

Scratching the back of his head, he worked on how he was going to pull off his charade this time. Finally, he put his jacket back on and stepped back out, placing his injured arm back in his pocket. He walked back to the living room.

"Hey, Token," He called, once again gaining the black boy's attention. "Can I borrow a hoodie?" Token nodded.

"Sure. Are you cold or something?" Clyde shook his head.

"No. I just... found out the cat pissed on this one..."

Token complied, disappearing only to return, chucking a light hoodie at his friend.

"Thanks." Clyde returned to the bathroom.

Immediately, he removed both his jacket and his t-shirt, placing them on the counter by the sink. He turned to the faucet and began to wash the blood from his arm, hissing and scrunching his face in pain at the sting from still-open cuts. Once satisfied, he did the same with his t-shirt, but the stain wouldn't fully come out. After five minutes of working it alone, he gave up and rung out the water it had soaked up. He tossed it in the garbage and turned his attention to his jacket. He just started to wash the sleeve when suddenly the door began to open.

Clyde freaked, pushing it shut roughly.

"Oh, sorry." Came Craig's voice from the other side. "Didn't realize this one was taken." Clyde let out a heavy sigh.

"Don't worry about it." He cursed himself. How could he have forgotten to lock the damn door?

"You doing OK in there?" Craig asked. Clyde rushed to pull Token's hoodie over his head and torso. He grabbed his jacket and opened the door.

"Just fine." Clyde said easily as he slipped past Craig, but was stopped by another tug on his sleeve, this time the wrong arm. He winced slightly, then hid his expression and turned to face to raven. "What?"

For a few moments they just stood there until Craig let go and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Clyde shook off a feeling of worry and rejoined Token and Tweek in the living room.

The rest of the day went generally OK, as far as Clyde was concerned. After the movie, the uncomfortableness lifted and he was able to enjoy himself more as the actual gaming began, for the moment anyway.

It wasn't until about one in the morning when all the boys tiredly made their way up to Token's room to sleep. As the other three got themselves ready to pass out, Clyde spent a long time just taking off his shoes and stripping his jeans off to his boxers and claimed the far edge of the queen-sized bed, burying himself beneath the multiple comforters. He rolled onto his side and faced the dark wall away from his friends.

Not three minutes had passed before Clyde fell asleep.

"... Craig..?" Came a soft voice in the middle of the night. The raven, who'd been awake for what seemed to be hours now, looked over to his best friend.

"Yes, Tweek?"

"I need to go to the bathroom..." The raven's eyes flashed in the darkness.

"You know the way, don't you?"

"But what if the -GAH!- Underpants Gnomes get me?" Tweek flinched at Craig's side. All of a sudden, images of Tweek being cornered by Gnomes in the dark hallways, all in effort to steal the underpants straight from his hips flashed across Craig's mind. He held back a smile and covered it by letting out a sigh. Slowly, so as to not bother the brunette he'd been sandwiched in-between with Tweek, he sat up and crawled to the end of the bed, the blonde close in tow.

Craig soon found his eyes drooping as he stood just outside the bathroom door. Was it just a walk he needed to clear his mind and make himself tired enough to fall asleep? He'd been feeling uneasy about his friend, the brunette, among thinking of other things going on in his life. Sure, Clyde had never been the same since 4th grade, but today he was just... so distant. Not to mention how he'd looked like he'd been crying when he first approached the boy in his bedroom. He shook his head. Why would Clyde be tripping now? The bathroom door opened up to the thin boy he'd accompanied.

"Uh.. Craig..?" The raven looked over, catching sight of the yellow bundle in Tweek's hand, clearly visible by the light from the bathroom. Was that Clyde's shirt? Craig could remember several times in which Clyde had worn a yellow shirt with Taco Cat on it's front.

"Where'd you find that?"

"It was in the trash." He said as he shuffled it around. "Look." Tweek held up a dark stain, inky against the light, almost cheerful yellow. Craig knew better, but still hoped it was nothing more than a pop stain. He took the shirt from Tweek and lifted it to his nose, taking in a deep whiff.

Yea. It was blood alright...

Craig stormed off, face contorted with silent rage as Tweek followed him back to Token's room. All of Tweek's questions were unintentionally ignored as Craig flipped on the lights and approached Token.

"Hey dude, wake up." He shook his friend's shoulders. Brown eyes opened to meet him.

"What are-"

"Get up. I need to talk to Clyde."

"Ugh..." Token grumbled but crawled out of bed, respecting the group leader's annoying request, and joined Tweek in the hallway. Craig closed the door and turned back on the single remaining boy, oblivious in his rest.

Clyde was well-known for his heavy sleeping, giving Craig the opportunity to approach him and lift up the side of his borrowed hoodie, the same spot the shirt had been stained. There was nothing there.

Craig let out a breath of relief, until his eyes fell upon spots. There were small red stains spotting the sleeve over Clyde's forearm. Craig rolled it up over the near-skinny arm. A deep growl emitted from his throat at the sight of the scars, the blood, the self-mutilation. He knew Clyde could be the only one doing this to himself, and it fueled his anger.

"Wake up, Clyde!" He called as he shook the brunette by the shoulder. Clyde's face made a pained expression before his eyes slowly opened.

"Dude, it can't be morning yet... Go back to sleep." He said sleepily and rolled over onto his side, trying to fall back asleep.

"Get up!" Craig growled. Clyde irritably sat up, glaring at the other through crusty lashes.

"What the fuck do you want, dude?" He rubbed his eyes, his sleeve falling back down. Craig held up the t-shirt.

"Look at what Tweek found in the bathroom!"

Clyde's eyes narrowed on his old shirt and the visible stain on the side. He swallowed hard and looked up to meet Craig's cold, hard stare.

"So? I threw my shirt away. What's wrong with that?" Craig dropped the shirt into Clyde's lap.

"Clyde, I know what you've been doing!" Craig's voice began to rise, but Clyde tried to keep himself calm, otherwise he'd give it all away.

"I don't know what you're-"

Craig swiftly snatched Clyde's wrist and held his arm out, sliding up the sleeve again. Clyde writhed beneath Craig's grasp, trying to pull free.

"Tell me what the fuck this is!" Craig roared, but Clyde didn't stop trying to break away.

"None of your damn business..." He looked away, unable to look at those cold blue eyes.

"Like hell it's not! You can't be doing shit like this, it's dangerous!"

"You think I don't know that!?" Clyde snapped, meeting Craig's stare with sudden anger. "You think it doesn't hurt, or that I don't notice the light-headedness when I lose too much blood!? I may be the dumbest kid in class, but I'm not _that_ stupid, Craig!"

"Then why the hell are you doing this to yourself!?" Clyde looked away. Would there be any point to telling him? Craig knew about how he blamed himself for his mother's death, he'd even been there shortly after when Clyde needed someone, but Craig hadn't lost his mother, he wouldn't know what it was like. He had never been the cause of anyone's death. Even when it came to the Guinea pirate, that fucker was sent to prison, not six feet under. No, Craig wouldn't understand. Sure, he had his problems - everyone did - but nothing could compare to killing someone.

"You wouldn't understand.." Clyde muttered, hanging his head. Craig let go of his wrist and sat down on the bed next to him. He closed his eyes a moment before speaking softly.

"There's no way I could understand everything, but you should at least be able to talk to me about it instead of hurting yourself."

Clyde looked away. Suddenly he felt wrong; it wasn't so much what Craig said as it was how he said it. He'd been trying so hard to hide his pain that he'd pushed his friends out, forgetting that they _cared _about him.

Clyde bit his lip as his eyes filled to the brim with tears.

"I'm sorry..." He half whispered, tears breaking loose. _Drip... Drip..._

Craig looked to his friend, then quickly moved over and used the sleeve of his jacket to dry the teen's face.

"It's all my fault..." Clyde sniffled. "S-she's dead because of me..." Craig shook his head.

"No, it's not you're fault." He placed a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "No one blames you." Clyde shook his own head violently.

"My sister does."

"It's not your fault. Your sister lost her mother at an early age, she's trying to cope with the loss. She's angry and blinded by that, she blames you. That's the best outlet she's found. It does _not_ mean she's right."

Clyde squeezed his eyes shut, releasing more tears. _Drip... Drip... Drip.._ Craig wrapped his arms around the other and gently pulled him in, allowing Clyde to rest his head on the raven's shoulder. Clyde shook in distress, trying hard to suppress his feelings.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to show these emotions to anyone. Yet, this didn't feel wrong.

Why?

He was so exposed, so emotionally naked, wasn't he supposed to feel shame?

"I can't handle this anymore, Craig." Clyde choked out.

"I know," the raven replied, running a hand through Clyde's hair to calm him down, a practice he'd often used on Tweek when the coffee-addict was on the verge of having a panic attack. "That's what we're here for."

Clyde's frame racked with sobs as he leaned into Craig, almost unbelieving of the fact that someone _cared_, but thankful. As much as he hated feeling vulnerable, Clyde was comfortable. Still he didn't know why he felt so safe. Perhaps it was the contact? After the incident with the List and Bebe's plot for free shoes from his father's store, he'd given up on any sort of relationship involving getting too close to another person. In turn, physical contact had been scarce, even between his friends. Unwilling to dwell on this as his lack of sleep was quickly catching up to him, he accepted this as the answer and voided away anymore thoughts.

Almost as if he'd read the others' mind, Craig spoke up.

"Hey, why don't we go back to sleep? We can talk more in the morning, alright?"

Clyde sniffled, but nodded his head, wiping at his face with his sleeve. He laid back down and resumed his earlier position of facing the far wall in favor of keeping the others from seeing his tears.

"I'll let Token and Tweek in. We don't have to tell them tonight if you don't want to." Craig said as he stood up and shuffled toward the door.

"Craig..?" The raven heard and stopped just before taking the handle. He turned to see Clyde twisted to look back at him. Silently, he waited for his friend to continue. "Thank you."

In reply, Clyde received a rare sight; a smile donning Craig fucking Tucker's face.


End file.
